


The One Where It's Laundry Day

by LiveSincerely



Series: Tease [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Davey drives Jack crazy, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious Davey, PWP, Rimming, and doesn't even know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16735488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveSincerely/pseuds/LiveSincerely
Summary: “What are you playing at, Dave?” Jack murmurs, his lips brushing across the shell of Davey’s ear as he speaks. He’s absolutely plastered along Davey’s back, his hips seated tightly against Davey’s ass. “Are you trying drive me crazy?”“What?” Davey asks, uncomprehendingly.“Do you have any idea what your ass looks like in these jeans?”





	The One Where It's Laundry Day

* * *

“I’ll see you again on Monday,” Davey calls as the other students file out the door. Tutoring isn’t something he necessarily minds doing, but he’s usually too busy or too anxious to offer. But when his History teacher offered him the position, he decided to take it—it would look good on resumes and scholarship applications, and it gave him something to do while waiting for Jack to get done with football practice.

He hums to himself as he tidies the classroom he hosts his tutoring sessions in, sweeping up loose bits of paper and eraser shavings and dumping them in the waste basket. He’s in the middle of stacking textbooks back on the shelves when he hears the classroom door creak open behind him.

Davey glances over and smiles. “Hey, Jack,” he greets.

Jack shuts the door behind him and sets his bag down with a soft _thunk_ but doesn’t reply. His expression is strange: his face is flushed and there’s a look of intense focus burning in his dark eyes. Davey doesn’t think much of this—Jack must still be amped up from practice—and turns back to the textbooks.

“I’m almost finished,” Davey says, bending down to place the last of the books on a lower shelf. “Just let me get these put away and we can go.” He straightens up and stretches, giving everything one last survey to make sure all is back where it should be.

Then abruptly, Jack is right behind him. Davey lets out a yelp of surprise as Jack pushes him, hard, up against the bookshelf he was just organizing, his strong hands moving to settle on Davey’s hips, holding him so they’re pressed flush together, back to front. He leans in to nose at the sensitive skin on Davey’s jaw, then places a kiss there.

“What are you playing at, Dave?” Jack murmurs, his lips brushing across the shell of Davey’s ear as he speaks. He’s absolutely plastered along Davey’s back, his hips seated tightly against Davey’s ass. “Are you trying drive me crazy?”

“What?” Davey asks, uncomprehendingly.

“Do you have any idea what your ass looks like in these jeans?”

“I-what?” Davey tries again. He feels hot and a little dizzy, surprise and sudden arousal slowing his mind. He’s usually quicker on the uptake, but he can’t focus on anything other than the feeling of Jack’s dick pressed against him, thick and hard through their jeans.

“I’ve been distracted all day—everyone’s noticed me staring except you. Race and Albert won’t stop laughing and Katherine told me to stop objectifying you.” Jack says, dragging his mouth down the length of Davey’s neck, one hand moving from its place at his hip to massage his inner thigh.

“But how am I supposed to do that,” he continues, “when my boyfriend’s wearing the tightest pair of jeans known to man, prancing his sweet ass around like the world’s most oblivious little tease.”

“Jack,” Davey whimpers, and god, he already sounds _wrecked_. “Jack, I- _mmm_ ,” Davey’s head falls back onto Jack’s shoulder, unable to help the soft, keening noise that escapes him as Jack rolls his hips into his ass, nibbling at his pulse point. Jack’s hand slides up his thigh and over his stomach, as if to somehow pull him impossibly closer, then starts working Davey’s zipper open.

“Jack,” Davey manages to protest, even as he widens his stance to give Jack more room to maneuver. “Someone could hear, someone could walk in.”

“Then I guess you’d better keep quiet,” Jack growls, then wraps a hot hand around Davey’s dick. 

“ _God_ , Jack,” Davey moans, overwhelmed by the efficiency of Jack’s assault.

His eyes flutter closed as he pants, tilting his head to give Jack better access to his throat. He can’t decide whether to cling to the bookshelf in front of him or hold onto the strong arms wrapped around him, if he wants to thrust forward into Jack’s hand or grind back against the hard length of Jack’s dick.

Jack gives him a few hard, fast strokes, then stops, using his grip on Davey’s hips to pull him away from the shelf. Jack nudges him forward, and Davey takes a few shaky steps until he can brace himself against the edge of a nearby desk.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Jack demands in a low, raspy voice, dragging Davey’s jeans and underwear down his legs in one rough motion. He flattens a hand across the center of Davey’s back, easing him down until he’s completely bent over with his bare ass thrust out in offering. “For fuck’s sake, Dave, I’m only human.”

Davey lets out a shaky breath and glances over his shoulder. Jack kneels on the floor behind him, staring transfixed at his exposed ass and thighs, and the look on his face… Davey bites his lip.

“Christ, Davey, you’re gorgeous,” Jack breathes, reverent. His hands slide down Davey’s back and lower, cupping the soft globes of his ass and squeezing.

“Jack!” Davey whines, feeling the beginnings of a blush spreading across his face. He opens his mouth—maybe to say something, maybe to beg—but lets out a squeak when he feels Jack’s hands part him and a hot puff of air cover his hole.

“Shhh,” Jack soothes, mapping a slow, hot trail down Davey’s thighs. He presses a kiss against the curve of Davey’s hip, then scrapes his teeth against the smooth skin of his ass. “I thought you were worried someone would hear?”

“Well maybe you should hurry the hell up and— _ah_!” Davey’s retort is lost in a moan as Jack circles his tongue around Davey’s rim. His legs tremble and his hands clutch, white-knuckled, at the edge of the desk, desperate for something to hold onto.

Jack hums, pleased, dipping his tongue into Davey’s hole, Davey’s panting breaths his only reply. He thumbs Davey’s cheeks further apart, then buries his face in Davey’s ass, alternating between slow, firm laps and teasing flicks of his tongue.

“Oh, god, don’t stop,” Davey pleads, tilting his hips up to give Jack a better angle. Each pass of Jack’s tongue threatens to tear a whimper or slutty moan past Davey’s lips, and it’s taking all his will power to stay mostly upright, to brace himself as best he can and _hold on_.

“Fuck, Jack, please,” Davey gasps. Jack presses in again, sucking at his hole, then scraping his teeth against his rim, and Davey cries out, his back arching at the sensation. His hips jerk and twitch in Jack’s hold—he tries to rock back against him, but Jack’s grip is unyielding, pressing him down and spreading him open, forcing him to take the hard strokes of his tongue.

Pleasure zings up his spine, blooming in sparks behind his closed eyelids. Davey can feel the heat coiling tight in his stomach, can feel himself getting closer and closer to his peak, but it’s not enough, he needs more—

“Jack, Jack, come on, please, I need,” Davey babbles, incoherent.

Jack pulls away, circling a finger teasingly around his hole, then reaches around to wrap a spit-slick hand around Davey’s neglected dick, red and leaking against Davey’s stomach.

“ _Fuck, Jack,”_ Davey whimpers, hip jerking violently in Jack’s hold. “Jack, I—fuck, Jack, I can’t, I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, Dave,” Jack orders, and Davey’s helpless to do anything but obey, spiraling over the edge with a cry. His legs and arms tremble and he can’t hold himself up anymore, collapsing in a heap on the desktop.

There’s a long moment where Davey just lays there, trying to catch his breath. He hears Jack climbing to his feet, hears him fumbling with his belt, and he cracks an eye open to look at him. He looks about has wrecked as Davey feels, his lips red and spit-shiny, a hand wrapped around the base of his dick to stave off his orgasm.

“Dave,” he says, his eyes dark and his pupils blown wide, and Davey thrills at the idea that just the sight of him, fucked out and sated, is almost enough to make Jack come. “Dave, can I, will you—”

Davey licks his lips, tilting his head invitingly. “How do you want me?”

Jack bites back a groan, then staggers forward. “Like this—no, like this.” Jack gets a hand under Davey’s thigh and lifts until one of his legs is up on the desk with the rest of him, leaving the v of his legs open for Jack to step between. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Davey breathes, dropping his head so his cheek is pressed against the center of the desk. He lifts his hips experimentally—Jack is a warm, solid weight behind him, his dick hot and hard against the curve of his ass, and even though he just came, Davey feels a fresh surge of arousal thrum through him. “Come on, Jack,” Davey says, looking up at Jack through his fringe. “Fuck me.”

Jack’s hands go to Davey’s hips and his dick slides between Davey’s ass cheeks, catching against Davey’s rim with each thrust and sending sparks up Davey’s spine. It’s a little overwhelming, the pain/pleasure of Jack fucking up against his sensitive hole, and Davey can’t help the little gasps of pleasure that escape him.

“Christ, Davey, you’re so good, so perfect for me.” Jack leans forward and kisses the marks he’s left on Davey’s neck and shoulders, and Davey hums, low and pleased in the back of his throat. He can’t help but babble, “Yes, Jack, like that. Fuck me, please, Jack, wreck me—I want you to, please, Jack, Jack—"

Jack groans, his thrusts going wild as his hips spasm. He pulls away, one hand roughly stroking his dick while the other presses down between Davey’s shoulder blades, holding him in place. Davey just manages to turn his head in time to look: Jack comes hard, painting white stripes across Davey’s ass and thighs. Davey bites his lip, watching as Jack’s chest heaves, his mouth parted slightly as he shivers through the aftershocks. God, he loves this beautiful, beautiful man.

There’s a moment of silence where they both just breathe, coming down from their respective highs. Then:

“This is unsanitary,” Davey says finally, pushing himself up on his elbows.

Jack goes still behind him, then huffs out a laugh. “Really, Dave?” he asks, pressing a kiss to Davey’s temple.

“Well, it is,” Davey insists, even as a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

They clean themselves up the best they can with some tissues, straightening out their rumpled clothes. As Davey shimmies back into his jeans, he feels the heat of Jack’s gaze on him.

“So, you like my jeans, then?” Davey asks, trying to hide a smirk.

“I’d say ‘like’ is a bit of an understatement, babe.”

“They’re a little tight,” Davey concedes, “but I had to wear them—the washers’ been out all week, these are my last pair of clean pants.”

“Well, next time, have some pity and warn a guy.” Jack says, his hands moving to Davey’s hips to pull him closer, before sliding down to fondle his ass. “I need advance notice if I’m going to get through the day without ravishing you.”

Davey just laughs and shakes his head, pulling Jack in for a kiss.

(Instead of throwing them out like he’d planned, he’ll have to set these jeans aside… for special occasions)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come hang out with me on tumblr: livesincerely


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